


Kiss the Cook

by Scmnz



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Naked except for an apron trope, Non-Explicit Smut, Post-Canon, Tooth Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scmnz/pseuds/Scmnz
Summary: The kitchen itself was in chaos. Smoke filled the air. Dirty dishes were everywhere. But none of that was the most surprising part of the scene.Standing in the middle of the whole mess was Crowley, with flour in his hair, and wearing nothing but a hot pink apron.





	1. Anniversary

Aziraphale was feeling rather impatient. Crowley had invited him to his flat for a ‘surprise dinner’ and told him to arrive at half past seven. This was… unusual, as they typically ate out when they ate at all. 

And yet it was their one year anniversary as an “official couple”. And if humans celebrated such a milestone, why shouldn’t they? It seemed a little silly being excited about a single year after six thousand of the things, but he was excited nonetheless. And Crowley seemed to be planning something special.

It was only six fifteen and Aziraphale was already pacing the bookshop. He hadn’t had any customers today, thankfully, but that meant he had nothing to do but wait. He had tried to settle down and read a book, but even that hadn’t worked. There was always the option of fretting over what to wear, but it seemed a little early to start with that. 

At seven the shop’s phone rang and startled Aziraphale who dropped the three similar tartan bow ties he had been comparing to answer. 

“Aziraphale! I’m going to have to delay this. Can you come by later?”

“Oh?” He tried not to sound too disappointed. “Is everything alright dear?”

“What? Oh fine, fin- FUCK!” A strange, shrill beeping shrieked on Crowley’s end, and then the line went dead. 

Well,  _ that  _ certainly didn’t sound good. 

Without even stopping to think about it, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and appeared in front of Crowley’s flat. 

Aziraphale hesitated in front of the door, his wits catching up with him. He knew he shouldn’t have come straight over, he had been told not to, but Crowley had sounded so anxious and… and well, Aziraphale was impatient, not wanting to spend the rest of their anniversary alone. 

After some panicked consideration, Aziraphale decided the best course of action was probably to sneak into the flat unnoticed, and if everything seemed fine and under control, he can slip right out again, without disturbing Crowley. Yes, then he could sate his curiosity without ruining Crowley’s fun surprising him. Aziraphale could act surprised if need be. 

He exhaled softly, willing the door unlocked. It opened with a gentle click and the angel slid down the hall as silently as he could manage. He glanced into what could only be called a throne room. It’s empty except for Crowley’s aforementioned throne and the cozy couch Crowley had added when Aziraphale started spending more time at the flat.

He crept towards the noise down the hall, coming from the kitchen Crowley hardly ever used. That was surprising. There was a clattering of metal and demonic swearing. Aziraphale rounded a corner on his tip-toes, running straight into a plant and knocking it over with a crash. He miracled it back in place and hoped Crowley didn’t hear it over the cacophony in the kitchen. 

Aziraphale paused at the end of the hallway and peered around the corner. The sight that met his eyes was astonishing. The kitchen itself was in chaos. Flour and sauce were everywhere. A pot on the stove was bubbling with a strange grey liquid. Standing on the counter was something that was probably supposed to be a cake but was horribly burnt. Smoke filled the air. Well, that explained the beeping he had heard on the phone at any rate. But none of that was the most surprising part of the scene.

Standing in the middle of the whole mess was Crowley, with flour in his hair, and wearing nothing but a hot pink apron. 

Crowley was thankfully oblivious to his presence. He stirred the pot of discolored, bubbling goo, willing it to become even remotely edible again. Aziraphale watched, mesmerized, the demon wiggling his rear as he paced over to the previously cake. The demon glared at the offending baked good and swore. He shifted his hips, muscles flexing under taut skin, causing one toned butt cheek to rise over the other in a manner that was beyond sinful, and just plain unfair. 

Aziraphale couldn’t help a small breathy moan at the sight before him, and Crowley spun round in horror at the sound. The pink cotton of the apron whirled with him, exposing the length of his pale legs. 

“I can explain!” Crowley barked before he had processed just who was in front of him. Sharp, accusatory yellow eyes pinned Aziraphale in place. “You’re not supposed to be here yet,” Crowley grumbled sullenly. “You promised, angel.”

“Well, no, I didn’t really promise.” Aziraphale was  blushing , more from the sight before him than from shame. “But dear, what is… all this?” 

Crowley shifted awkwardly, causing the  apron to shift with him , leaving one of his smooth pale hips completely exposed. Aziraphale gulped. 

The demon rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling. “I was uh… trying to make us dinner. But I haven’t really cooked anything since the seventeenth century and uh…” He shrugged. “I ruined everything.” The expression on his face was more sheepish than snake-like. 

Aziraphale hadn’t even known Crowley could cook, although judging by the state of the kitchen… “could cook” might be an overstatement. It was touching, and really quite sweet that he had gone through the trouble. The angel wanted to thank him, to reassure him that things weren’t ruined at all. But he was finding it rather hard to focus on anything other than the sheer amount of skin Crowley had showing. It was incredible and  _ very _ distracting. 

Finally, after a long moment of awkward silence, he forced out a raspy, “And the… uh, apron?” The apron wasn’t really the point, but the lack of any clothing beneath it certainly was. 

Crowley blinked and looked down at himself.  He shrugged, cheeks turning a light pink, but remained remarkably composed. “ Didn’t want to get my clothes dirty before our date.” 

That was not in  _ any way _ a good enough explanation of why he was naked. “Oh.” Was all Aziraphale could think to say in reply. His face was heated and he could feel  his breeches tightening, against his will, his body betraying him by showing his excitement. 

Crowley didn’t seem to notice Aziraphale’s increasing arousal. He fidgeted and glanced around the ransacked kitchen. “I don’t think anything left here is edible. I could order take-away?” 

Aziraphale took a deep breath. Clearly, he’s going to have to be the one to say something if the situation is to be resolved. He wrung his hands nervously. “Take-away would be fine dear, but ah… At the moment I’d rather have  _ you _ .” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Crowley was acting oblivious. Too oblivious. _ Had this been his plan all along? _ Aziraphale wondered. 

“What I mean is, you look quite delicious in that apron.”

“Oh, I doubt I taste any better than this gourmet meal I’m making for you.” Crowley gestured at the smoking remains of what might have been pasta and grinned. The angel knew that expression well. He was teasing, trying to get Aziraphale to say what he wanted directly. The thought made him flush with excitement.

Rather than trying yet again to phrase the lewd images going through his mind delicately, Aziraphale strode forward until he was right in front of Crowley. He grabbed the apron string and pulled him in for a kiss. 

The kiss started slow and chaste, but soon Crowley was pulling him closer and putting his serpentine tongue to excellent use. 

Aziraphale let his hands wander, feeling the smooth expanse of Crowley’s shoulders. He could feel the delicate muscles move every time they shifted position. He let out a soft sigh and the demon’s tongue took that opportunity to dart into his parted lips. 

Crowley’s tongue rubbed slowly along the roof of his mouth, which was particularly sensitive. Aziraphale moaned and pressed himself flush against Crowley. He felt the demon’s hands running along his body, apply deep pressure along his arms, down his back, before settling on his arse and squeezing. 

After a long while, Aziraphale was the first to break away, breathless and laughing. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it dear? This was the surprise you had for me.” He forced out between giggles. 

“Was it?” Crowley asked with a smirk, not giving anything away. 

“You’ve never been one for cooking. And a pink apron isn’t exactly your style, love.” Aziraphale smiled, leaning in to rub their noses together. 

“Well, I did try to make something nice.” He smirked. “But this was the backup plan.” he shrugged before pressing their mouths together again. 

Sometime later Crowley pulled away gasping. “Shall we move this to the bed?” He suggested, attempting to sound suave despite his disheveled state, bare skin flushed and loose apron almost falling off his sweaty body. Aziraphale nodded let himself be steered that way by hands that were still gripping his backside.

Not breaking contact, Aziraphale pulled Crowley onto the black silk sheets of the bed.

___

After another half hour resting in each other’s arms, Aziraphale’s stomach gave a rumble. He got up, ignoring Crowley’s protests, and retrieved his trousers from the floor. He frowned at the floury handprints that covered the backside and thighs of the trousers.“Really, dear? You made a mess.” 

“Come back to bed,” Crowley grumbled.

“In a minute, I’m going to order us some food.”

“Please, angel?”

Aziraphale sighed and dropped the disheveled trousers. He climbed back into bed and curled up in the demon's arms. “You call them on your mobile phone then. I’m hungry.”

“Anything for you.” Crowley murmured, sounding rather sappier than he’d want to. He kissed Aziraphale’s forehead.

The angel wiggled, settling into a more comfortable position, deeper in Crowley’s arms. “This was a lovely surprise. Thank you, darling. It’s such a shame I can’t return the favor.” 

“Mmm? Why couldn’t you?” He paused mid-dial.

“Well… I certainly wouldn’t look as appetizing as you do.” Aziraphale ran his hands over the rumbled and stained apron that was still loosely draped over Crowley’s body. “I’m afraid I’m not as good at being seductive as you dear.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and buried his face in his neck, hiding a blush. “Nonsense. You’re damn sexy. Only if you want, though.” He quickly added.

“Well…” Aziraphale smiled a bit shyly, ironic considering everything they’d just done. “If you think you’d enjoy it, I’d be happy to try sometime.” 

He lazily ran his hand along Crowley’s back as the demon ordered them food, occasionally kissing his chest where it was visible under the frilly pink cloth of the apron. It truly was turning out to be a lovely anniversary, kitchen disaster and all. 


	2. Valentine's day

It was Valentine's day. 

  
Part of Aziraphale had wanted to return the favor and give Crowley what he wanted right away, but he had needed the time to plan to make sure he got everything right. The chaos and mess of Crowley’s surprise had somehow suited the occasion, and he hadn't minded it. But that just was not how the angel did things. He liked to do things just so, to have a plan. And Valentine's day seemed like an appropriate time.

So now he stood in his kitchen with a recipe covered in neat notes in his meticulous handwriting. A bookshelf in the shop was filled with cookbooks marked with sticky notes. He wasn’t exactly a  _ skilled _ chef, but he still wanted to make something that would be impressive, something that would show the effort and practice he had put into this. 

The counter in front of him had all the ingredients and tools he would need, all neatly labeled. A few decades ago Crowley had given him a label maker as a practical joke, and had seemed surprised when he'd actually used it. The demon would be getting here any minute now. 

Aziraphale nervously smoothed the apron that was all he had on, the cool air raising goosebumps on his bare skin. This apron, too, was something he had put a great deal of thought into. His first thought had been tartan, something in a light brown or blue. But while that suited his tastes, this wasn’t something he was doing for himself. This was for Crowley, so it all had to be perfect. 

He had considered more erotic options, skimpy lace things that resembled lingerie rather than baking gear, but they had felt wrong as well. 

In the end, what he had wound up wearing was a cotton knee-length apron that covered his front relatively well, but left nothing of his behind to the imagination. The apron was pastel yellow and checked. It wasn’t exactly stylish, but it was simple and did the job.

Crowley had been told to arrive fifteen minutes ago, which meant he should be turning up right about now. 

Sure enough, the bell to the bookshop jingled.

“In the kitchen” Aziraphale called over his shoulder. 

As the demon strutted in, Aziraphale leaned against the counter, his arse pushed out and on display. He heard Crowley take a deep breath at the sight, and he swallowed hard. He hoped the view was appealing. 

“Hey.” Crowley’s voice was hoarse, his mouth had gone dry.

“Hey.” Aziraphale blushed shyly. But that wouldn’t do, shyness and embarrassment weren’t exactly suited to this type of performance! He shifted his hips, swinging his ass theatrically. It felt a bit overdramatic, and the overemphasized wiggle of his hips probably looked a bit comical, but he needed to try and be sexy, be confident! Judging from the gasp he heard, however melodramatic his movements were, they were well received by his audience. 

“I hope you’re hungry” he quipped, “because I’m about to spice things up.”

“Positively starving,” Crowley said in an attempt at flirtation, but he failed just as badly as Aziraphale had a moment earlier. 

Aziraphale smiled at him gently, soft affection slipping through. 

Aziraphale then turned to the task before him. He bent over the counter to reach for the mixing bowl that he had placed just out of his grasp for this purpose. His backside, round and luscious was on display. He could feel Crowley’s eyes burning into him, and could sense the absolute adoration and love pouring off of him.

Aziraphale pulled the bowl towards him and straightened up, looking over his shoulder to see the reaction of his audience. Feeling it was one thing, but he wanted to see Crowley’s expression, to see with his own eyes the effect his body was having on him. 

Crowley’s sunglasses were off, he seldom bothered with them in the bookshop these days. His eyes were focused on the plush curves and rolls of Aziraphale, and his face was quite flushed. Aziraphale met his hungry eyes before turning to his task with a suggestive wiggle.

Aziraphale had pre-mixed the dry ingredients for the batter, and he now dumped a few cups into the mixing bowl. With a flourish he created a well in the powder, swiveling his hips unnecessarily as he did. His buttocks jiggled with the motion. 

As he prepared to crack the eggs Aziraphale heard the tap of Crowley’s shoes across the tile floor, approaching him. “Coming to get a better view?” he smiled.

“Oh I'm after more than a view angel” he drawled. Aziraphale felt hot breath against the back of his neck and Crowley’s long fingers curling around the curve of his hips. For a moment he leaned into the touch, before remembering his purpose. 

Aziraphale gently smacked away Crowley’s hands. “Patience” he murmured, half warning and half-amused. “ that part comes later. _ If  _ you behave.”

“And if I don’t behave? I go to bed without dinner do I?” Crowley teased.

“Yes. And without me.” Aziraphale gestured to himself and did a little shimmy. “Neither of us wants that, do we? Now be a good demon, won’t you dear?” His tone was light but there was determination in his eyes.

Crowley did as he was told, but stayed distractingly close, his breath ghosting over Aziraphale’s skin, raising the hairs on his neck. 

With as much drama as he could bring to something so mundane, he cracked the eggs into the well in the mixing bowl. He then carefully poured in some milk in a measuring cup. He handed a bowl containing a solid stick of butter to Crowley. “If you’re going to stand so close you might as well help. Be a dear and melt that will you?”

“This is supposed to be a treat for me and you want me to work?” Crowley grumbled in mock outrage. 

Aziraphale pouted over his shoulder at him.“Please? For me?” That silenced all complaints, he knew it would. The butter was liquid with only a thought. Aziraphale smiled and leaned back to kiss Crowley’s cheek. “Thank you, you’re so good to me darling.” 

Crowley tried and failed to disguise the pleased look his words had caused “I thought the rule was no touching.” 

“You’re not allowed to touch. I can do anything I want.” Aziraphale shifted his hips. He then flounced across the kitchen. There, on the top shelf of a cupboard, was a mixing spoon. He had placed it there ahead of time for this very purpose. 

He stood on tiptoes, reaching up for the spoon. His curves bounced and he heard the demon gazing at him let out a harsh breath. The utensil was still out of reach. He lifted one leg, exposing a beautiful view of his soft, plump, inner thigh, straining to reach high enough. The tips of his fingers grazed the spoon. He hopped and snagged the utensil, causing more of his skin to jiggle. Crowley moaned softly. 

Spoon now in hand Aziraphale returned to the mixing bowl, wiggling his hips for emphasis. He mixed the batter until it was smooth while idly playing with one of his nipples with his free hand, more for the reaction from Crowley than any personal pleasure. He could feel his eyes all over him and hear the strangled sounds each of his actions was provoking. He added an overflowing cup of dark chocolate chips to the bowl. With that final step of the recipe, the batter was ready. 

With a twirl that revealed rather more of his front half then intended, he went to apply the butter to the pan and set it on a burner.  Once the butter was melted and bubbling he poured a scoop of batter into it.

While waiting to flip over the pancake, he grabbed the cutting board and bent far further than was necessary to slice some perfectly ripe strawberries. The angle was ridiculous of course, but bending over a desk or counter was sexy, wasn’t it? He began cutting them into the shape of hearts.

Crowley seemed to have regained some control of his vocal cords, saying “That smells good angel. But… You know I won’t eat much right?”

“Yes, but you’ll enjoy watching me eat it. And besides darling, patience is a virtue.” Aziraphale popped one of the strawberry halves into his mouth and moaned at the flavor, and more importantly to get a reaction from Crowley. 

Crowley’s desire looked almost painful at this point. But he seemed to be enjoying himself so unless he brought it up, Aziraphale would let it be.

Pancake after pancake was finished and flipped expertly onto a waiting plate. They were light and fluffy, perfectly browned and smelled of the rich chocolate that dotted their surface.

Aziraphale artfully arranged the strawberry pieces on top of the stack, taking longer than strictly necessary. The anticipation of a good meal, and in this case something even more pleasurable, always made it sweeter. He sprinkled some cinnamon sugar over each one as he added it to the stack. When the last pancake was in place he grabbed a can of whipped cream, spraying it in decorative swirls to the stack. Then, making eye contact with Crowley, he sprayed a portion of the white cream directly into his mouth. Some got onto his fingers and he suggestively sucked them clean. The demon groaned.

Aziraphale observed his desperate expression. He still felt self-conscious about whether he was managing to be “sexy” enough, but he couldn’t argue with the results. Crowley was  _ clearly _ very turned on by the whole affair. He glanced at the food. It was tempting, but perhaps he had kept Crowley waiting too long.

Aziraphale turned towards Crowley and took a step forward. Crowley raised an eyebrow, glancing at the plate that Aziraphale was not carrying.

He fidgeted. “Well, I thought I might have dragged this out long enough dear. I can easily keep the food fresh, and I know you enjoy watching me eat but it doesn’t seem fair to make you wait for mor-”

Crowley cut off his objections with a long deep kiss. His tongue slipped between parted lips and ran over the roof of Aziraphale’s mouth. “What I want, right now, is to see you enjoy yourself.” 

Crowley released him and grabbed the plate with a swagger and a naughty grin. He placed the plate on the table and watched Aziraphale with expectation in his golden eyes. “Eat.” Aziraphale swallowed. He had eaten in front of Crowley thousands, no millions of times before. Somehow this was different. 

Aziraphale moved for the wooden chair by the table, but Crowley tsked. Somehow in just a few moments control had slipped from Aziraphale to Crowley. Crowley sat in the chair and gestured to his still fully clothed lap, erection bulging in his pants, for Aziraphale to sit. 

Aziraphale gingerly settled himself onto his thighs, carefully avoiding his crotch because surely that would hurt. His round cheeks flattened against Crowley’s muscular legs. “Earlier you wanted to get straight to the hanky-panky. What happened?” 

Crowley shrugged, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s middle under the apron and resting his chin on his shoulder. “It wouldn’t be any fun if I behaved myself.” 

Aziraphale picked up a fork and knife, the cool metal feeling pleasant against his flushed palms. He squirmed a bit. “Are you sure you’re quite comfortable dear?”

Crowley nuzzled his cheek with his nose. “Just eat angel.” 

He cut into the stack of pancakes. He carefully collected the food on his fork, making sure to get a little bit of everything, all of the toppings. 

He slid the forkful into his mouth and closed his eyes, letting out a soft hum of satisfaction. Crowley’s arms around his waist tightened. “Is it good?” He asked indulgently. 

“Scrumptious,” Aziraphale replied. “Here, you simply must try some.” He turned and lifted another bite over his shoulder to Crowley’s waiting mouth. “I did make it for you after all.”

“ Tasty,” he murmured. “but not half as delectable as you.” He began kissing his way down the angel’s shoulder blade. It was extremely distracting. 

Aziraphale shivered, but reached out with the fork to take another piece of pancake. The rich sweetness flowed over his tongue, fighting with the trail of kisses on his back for his attention. 

Slowly they worked their way through the rest of the plate, Aziraphale eating the majority with enthusiasm, and Crowley enjoying the occasional bite in between covering the angel’s exposed skin in kisses and bites.

  
  


Aziraphale scooped up the last morsel, A strawberry heart with melted chocolate and whipped cream. Crowley’s hands were exploring every roll and crevice of his flesh with reverence. He chewed slowly, savoring the tart berry and the perfectly bitter taste of chocolate. Aziraphale sighed with satisfaction, leaning back into his touch. “Are you quite sure that was alright? I’m not- Ah! not that good at this sort of thing and-”

“Angel. Shut up.” Crowley playfully swatted at his exposed rear. Aziraphale yelped. “This was perfect.”

“Well then,” Aziraphale said once he was recovered, in a voice that attempted to sound seductive but was a bit too calculated to work. He stood up from his seat on Crowley’s lap. “I suppose it’s time for dessert.”

Crowley chuckled, gesturing to the empty plate still coated in sugar and cream. “Was this not dessert?”

“No,” said Aziraphale with a sly smile. With a snap of his fingers, the plate vanished and the table was cleared. He threw off the apron with a flourish and draped his naked form across the table. “I am.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for two prompts for the https://tadfield-advertiser.dreamwidth.org/517.html asking for Aziraphale in nothing but an apron and Crowley in nothing but an apron cooking for Aziraphale. I'll get the next bit written and posted as quickly as possible. 
> 
> Thank you to SpaceChild and Kazeetie on Discord for Beta-ing.


End file.
